


Still, The World

by little_abyss



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, First Time Blow Jobs, Justice Positive, M/M, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Songfic, The Fade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-06 20:05:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11043372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_abyss/pseuds/little_abyss
Summary: Hawke tries to convince Justice that not only does he have good intentions where Anders is concerned, he is alsoveryinteresting.





	Still, The World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Skasha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skasha/gifts).



> Occasionally, I ask for prompts via song on [my tumblr](http://www.littlexabyss.tumblr.com). But honestly, this is the first time anyone's asked me to write PWP off Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers' _Learning to Fly_. 
> 
> Thank you for the prompt, skasha, my sweetheart, I really appreciate it! And I hope you enjoy the way that this turned out.

 

“I’m still terrified I’ll wake up,” Anders tells him, and Hawke grins, pulling him closer.  There is no hesitation, only a smile, a flutter of lashes, then their lips are together.  They kiss - around them, the moment grows deep, wide.  Oh, the taste of him, the smell, it is everything Hawke wanted.  Everything he’d hoped for.  Then suddenly, very suddenly, everything changes.

 

There is a crackle, a strange, breaking feeling in the air, and Hawke can feel the Fade snap around them, smell the sweet, cold scent of lyrium.  He gasps, pulls back from Anders’ lips and opens his eyes into the pure, blank blue-white of Justice’s stare.

The spirit holds him tight, and eventually, Hawke gives up his brief struggle.  Laughing a little, he then asks archly, “Anders told me you didn’t approve of this?”

“I do not,” the spirit tells him.  There is a pause, then Justice says cautiously, “Or, more accurately perhaps, I do not understand.  Please explain your intentions.”

 

“My… my intentions.  Well, perhaps we  _ should _ get on the same page,” Hawke takes a deep breath and sighs it all out.  Justice’s expression is neutral, and Hawke rolls his eyes, then bites his lips together.  He sighs again, shorter this time, and shakes his head.  “Fine.  I don’t know how much of that conversation you… uh, heard?  Just now…”

“All of it,” Justice interrupts, and Hawke grimaces.  

“Alright.  Well.  Anders is going to come and live here.  And as for my intentions, I plan to help him in every way I can.  This stupid city isn’t safe for apostates - even more so for apostates like Anders, who can’t seem to help helping people.  Helping people gets you noticed.  And not in a good way, either.”

 

Justice grunts and Hawke watches Anders’ eyes narrow suspiciously.  He waits for the spirit to speak, and eventually, they nod.  “You are correct - this has been my observation also.”  The spirit falls silent, then releases their hold on Hawke, who steps back half a pace.  They regard each other for a moment, then Justice asks, “Do you have anything you wish to ask me?”

Slowly, Hawke nods.  “This… might not be the right time for this, but Maker knows there’s never really a good time, so…” he huffs, shrugs, and continues, “When we… you know, Anders and I, when we have sex… are you..?”

“No,” Justice says blandly, “Anders wanted privacy - for himself, and for you.  I respect his wishes.”

Hawke nods thoughtfully, then cocks his head.  “Do you… want to be?  Involved, I mean?”

Justice narrows Anders’ eyes and cocks his head.  He seems as if he is listening to something, but finally, quickly, he nods.  But his eyes are still narrowed, and Hawke raises an eyebrow at him.  Justice sighs.  “I would know everything I can about the mortal realm.  Anders has been generous with his experiences… in this regard as in any other.  To help me learn.  He will permit it.  This time.  But only if you are agreeable.”

 

Hawke cannot help his smirk.  “Oh  _ good _ ,” he says, then gives Justice a long, considering look, still with that cocksure grin on his face.  “I’m very agreeable.  And there’s no time like the present for a little lesson, wouldn’t you say?”

And without thinking too much about it, he steps forward once more, pressing his lips to Justice’s, his arms going around Anders’ waist.  The spirit stands, stock still.  Slowly, Hawke moves his lips over Justice’s mouth, leaving small, soft kisses; then, he lengthens them, deepening each kiss.  Still, Justice stands, seemingly immovable, until Hawke chuckles and pulls back.  “Maker’s Arse, you can at least pretend you’re enjoying it.”

“I am incapable of enjoying it,” Justice says, sounding puzzled, “But I find it interesting.  Continue.”

 

“A please’d be nice,” Hawke mutters, then puts his hands to the front of Anders’ robes.  He undoes the top buckle, then frowns.  “Hey, is the owner of this body alright with me getting it naked again?”

Justice frowns, cocks his head again, then makes a brief, choked sound.  It takes Hawke a moment, then when he figures it out, he grins - this is Justice’s approximation of laughter.  “Yes,” Justice tells him, “Anders is enthusiastic that you should remove our clothing.”

“Oh really?” Hawke asks, then raises an eyebrow, “And how do you feel about it?”

“I have already expressed my interest in you proceeding,” Justice says, a little snarkily, and Hawke laughs again.  

 

He undoes the buckles holding Anders’ robe together, pulling it off his shoulders, exposing skin.  As he slides the fabric down Anders’ back, Hawke leans forward again, kissing Justice.  For the rest of Anders’ clothes, he works by touch alone, skating his hands over Anders’ hips, undoing the laces on his trousers, sliding his hands over the bare flesh. Justice’s grip has relaxed, though his arms still encircle Hawke.  He can feel Anders’ body begin to respond; and Justice has begun mimicking his movements, kissing him in return.  The touch of the spirit leaves faint, shivery traces of lyrium lingering over Hawke’s skin, in his mouth, wherever he touches Anders’ bare flesh - it goes right to his head, making him feel as if he is flying.  He pulls away for an instant, gasps as he allows his head to loll back, taking a deep breath.  “Maker,” he murmurs, “Justice, uh, back up.  Get on the bed.”

 

“Say please,” Justice demands hoarsely, and Hawke guffaws.  

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly, “Alright.  Please, then.”

Immediately, Justice turns, striding purposefully over to the bed.  They climb up on it, and lie down on their back - the movements are mechanical, nothing in them to seduce or entice.  Hawke snorts through his nose and hurries after them.  He follows Justice up onto the bed clumsily, shifting so that he is over Anders’ now completely naked form, straddling their hips.  It feels a little perverted this, the way he’s still in his clothes and…  his breath catches in his lungs as Hawke’s gaze rakes over Anders’ body.  Truly, he could never get enough of this.  Slowly, he reaches down, takes both of Anders’ wrists in his hands, and pulls them up, over Anders’ head.  Justice stares up blankly, lips parted.  “Show me,” the spirit breathes, “Show me now.”

 

“Bit of a demanding student, aren’t you?” Hawke whispers, and leans down, kissing Justice once more.  Maker, he tastes… so different to Anders, so  _ good _ , so  _ strange. _  Hawke barely feels his breath shortening, his pulse racing in his temples, so acutely aware is he of the way his cock is now half-hard again, the waves of want coming from Justice.  Is… is this a Fade thing?  The way Justice’s want is all in his head, he can almost smell the arousal coming from the spirit?  How aware of all this is Anders?   _ Stop it _ , he tells himself, groaning as he shifts enough to allow his cock to grind against Anders’ body.  Justice gasps against Hawke’s mouth.  Hawke shifts again, sliding his palms down Anders’ wrists, still holding Justice steady as he works his way down their body; their chest, stomach, hips, the crest of their thighs, kissing, stroking with just the tips of his fingers, moving slowly.  Justice arches his back and groans, and Hawke pauses for a second, eyes half closed.  His parted lips hover over the surface of Anders’ skin - he moves his head a little to the left, swallows, and kisses the base of Anders’ cock.

 

Justice gasps.  “More,” the spirit tells him, their voice choked.  Hawke feels rough hands in his hair, grasping for a second before they are pulled away.  He smiles; Anders is here, he’s… he’s present, he doesn’t know how he knows, but Hawke can almost feel him.  It’s in that gesture, the wanting and the reluctance.  “Oh, I’ll give you more,” Hawke growls, and shifts one hand, taking Anders’ cock into his grip.  He licks the skin, all around, short, sharp strokes of his tongue; long, languid motions which end in the gentle scrape of teeth.  He can feel the tension in Anders’ body, the rigidity of the muscles under his other hand.  Grinning, Hawke looks up, over Anders’ body.  Justice has their hands in their hair, mouth half open, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.  Their breath hitches and they ask, “Please, please, mortal.  Do not stop.”

 

“Mortal,” Hawke chuckles, shaking his head.  He smiles gently to himself, bends his head down and gives one final long lick to Anders cock, then takes the head into his mouth.  Justice sighs out a breath, and Hawke shifts over him, moving up on his knees, going for a better angle.  He sucks at Anders’ cock, flicking his tongue up under the head, allowing the saliva to flood his mouth, then moving his head up and down, making a rhythm.  Something in the air seems to shift sideways, Hawke can smell sweat and lyrium and the smoke from the fire, the madder used to dye the red coverlet, the ink on Anders’ hands, everything, everything is in his head at once.  A breath shudders out of him.  And it feels like flying, everything is overwhelming but he keeps going, taking Justice deeper, as deep as he can into his throat.  There is no sound that he’s aware of; only the feel of the cock in his mouth, only the feel of the sweat on his back under the rough cotton, the silk of Anders’ skin under his hands.  The tension builds and builds, cresting until stars seem to burst under Hawke’s eyelids; Justice thrusts up, into his throat, desperate, deeper, and then Hawke tastes ashes and lyrium.  He tries to cough, chokes, barely aware of the tears streaming from his eyes as he reels backwards, gagging for air.  Great whooping breaths escape him and then there are strong arms around him, soft hands in his hair, keeping him from falling.

 

A knot in the fire pops loudly; Hawke blinks his eyes open.  He does not know how much time has passed.  Justice’s arms are around him still, one hand idly stroking Hawke’s hair.  He clears his throat and moves back a little - Justice gazes blankly back at him.  “Well?” Hawke croaks, “What did you think?”

Justice smiles.  “Fascinating,” they say gently, “It was as if all the sea burned, as if every stone in this place was suddenly gone.”  Their smile broadens a little, and they tell Hawke, “I thank you.”

Then they blink, and Justice’s blue-white gaze is gone.  Anders smiles shyly at Hawke, and opens his mouth as if to speak.  But Hawke grins and rubs his eyes.  “You’re amazing,” he tells Anders, “And I love you.  Both of you.  But I really need a sandwich.”

Anders laughs softly, touches Hawke’s cheek.   _ As if all the sea burned _ , Hawke remembers, and sighs.


End file.
